


The Kissing Booth

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU: Different First Meeting, AU: University, Confusion, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Flirting, Hiding, Kissing, Kissing Booth, M/M, Mycroft Interferes, Mystery, Sherlock Is Silly, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John works at the university charity fair and meets Sherlock, but Sherlock has a lot of proving to do before they can be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thomas

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe.
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments --they mean so much.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

John looked out of his dorm window, sighing softly at the crowd that was gathering in the square. The booths were all set up -- games, food, desserts -- and of course the one he was dreading most: the kissing booth. His ex had convinced him to work the booth back when she was making the arrangements for the fair.  He felt bad backing out now since he'd promised. So here he was, unwillingly getting ready.

He headed down in his jeans and a t-shirt that said 'Kiss Me' in big blue letters. He took his spot behind the booth, set up the sign and the little till, and waited. As the crowd started streaming in, girls were lining up. It was a bit embarrassing, really, but he took their money and pecked their cheeks and tried his best to avoid the adventurous ones going for his lips. This was not going to be fun once they all started drinking.

Sherlock had been at the library for most of the afternoon when he decided to head back to his flat. He moved towards the quad, but he noticed there was more people than usual. Annoying. He tried to head around a different building, but there were people there as well. He looked around trying to figure out what was going on.

John watched everyone whenever he wasn't kissing someone. A few girls kept getting back in line, which was odd because on a regular day they hardly looked at him. He saw several boys pointing and laughing, but he ignored them.

Students, Sherlock silently cursed, though why he found it surprising that they were there or that they were annoying him, he really didn't know. If he was going to be hanging out a university, he knew he'd see students -- he just preferred ignoring their presence as much as possible. But this crowd made it quite hard; people were already bumping into him as they passed. He thought about going back into the library until things calmed down, but the sound of the music and the booths that were up made it seem like it was probably some university-sanctioned 'fun' and was unlikely to end very soon. He did his best to weave through the people.

As he passed a food booth, though, a woman handed him a cup and smiled. He drank it -- some kind of fruit punch or something -- and found a bin to throw the cup away. He stopped and looked around. He moved a little closer to the booths -- many of them had things sitting out. He picked up a few pens at one and a couple notebooks at another. The third one had some biscuits, and he grabbed some to put in his pocket. The woman there said, "Hi, are you interested in joining the Choral Group?"

"Um, maybe," Sherlock said, wondering why he wasn't just walking away. Could it be that he was feeling guilty for essentially stealing from the booths? That seemed unlikely.

"What year are you?" she asked.

"Second," he lied. "When do you meet?" He really had no idea what he was doing.

She handed him a piece of paper. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Liam," he said, putting the paper in his pocket. "See you then," he added and rushed off. He had kind of surprised himself there actually. He pulled up his collar and turned to head home, when some athletic-types bumped into him.

"Sorry," one called as they rushed past. He watched them head over to another booth and, for some reason, he followed them. He was very unsure why he was doing any of this.

"Watson! If I give you a fiver, will you use some tongue?" Greg shouted, sticking his own out and waving his arms. John flicked him two fingers as he kissed another girl. "When you're done, Anderson is having a party!" Greg called as he walked away. John watched them leave, catching the eye of a tall boy he'd never seen before as another girl was tugging his chin. He was so distracted he almost got her mouth.

Sherlock watched the athletes shout at the kid in the kissing booth before running off again. Students, he cursed again. He looked over at the queue at the kissing booth -- quite impressive really, and he wondered what this guy had going for him. He moved a little closer. Handsome, yes, but he didn't seem quite like the normal sporting type. And then without really realising it, Sherlock joined the queue.

When John looked up again from putting money away, he saw that boy in line. He flushed lightly as his stomach flipped. What was he doing?

When Sherlock got to the front, he handed John a pound coin. "One kiss, please," he said.

John stared up at him. "You're not a usual customer," he said.

"No," Sherlock said. "I am a very unusual customer. Kiss, please."

"What's your name?" John asked, trying to ignore the line forming behind him. Several girls were giggling.

"What does it matter? I've paid my money, I want my kiss," Sherlock said.

John shrugged. "I was just curious," he said. He leaned up and pecked Sherlock's cheek.

Sherlock put a two pound coin on the booth's counter. "And what do I get for this?"

John raised his brows a bit as he looked up from the coin to Sherlock. "Two kisses," he said, leaning up and kissing each cheek.

"And for a fiver?" Sherlock asked. What on earth? Why was he doing this?

John flushed and looked around for his friends before meeting his eyes again. "Five kisses, I suppose," he said.

"What's the hold up? I want what he's getting!" a girl shouted from the line. 

"I'll think about it," Sherlock said. "I might shop around and see what else is on offer. Goodbye, Watson." He moved away from the queue and disappeared into the crowd.

He moved over to a tree a bit away from the kissing booth. He was really not sure why he had done that, but for some reason, he'd quite enjoyed it.

"Liam!" Sherlock felt someone grab his arm. He turned his head. It was the woman from the choral booth. "What are you doing?"  
  
Sherlock just shook his head to mean nothing.

"I'm just taking a break -- everyone else seems to be having fun and it got boring in the booth," she said, not really taking the hint. "Are you going to be hanging around for a while?"

"I'm waiting for my boyfriend," Sherlock said.

"Oh," she said awkwardly. "Oh . . . that's good. That's nice. Where is he?" 

"In the kissing booth," he said.

"Weird," she said. "I mean, doesn't it bother you to see him kissing other people?"

"I'm not worried," Sherlock said. "See you later," he said, moving away from her. He walked back behind the kissing booth. He sat down, leaning against a tree, and just watched it all for a while. 

John had watched him leave, reluctantly getting pulled back to the waiting girls in line. He was curious, distracted by him and wishing he had fought harder for his name.

Sherlock watched Watson. He couldn't figure out how the guy had ended up doing this -- his friends clearly weren't in on it. It really was for a charity: did he care that much about animals that he'd put himself in this rather awkward situation? After a while, he saw that there were only a few girls in the queue, so he stood up and moved back in line.

When he got to the front, he took out a fiver. "Yours was the best offer I could find," he said.

John was only just starting to put that boy out of his mind when he saw him back in line. He tried to calmly keep kissing the girls in front of him before he was finally up to the booth. John looked down and slid the fiver closer with one finger. "Tell me your name," he said. 

"Thomas," Sherlock said. "Do I get them now or at a later date?"

John narrowed his eyes. "Do you want the five separate or the tongue?" he asked boldly.

"I'll let you decide," Sherlock said.

John put the note away slowly, turned back to Sherlock, gripped his jacket and tugged him down. He kissed him hard, pushing his tongue into his mouth for a second before pulling back. "Thanks for your donation, Thomas."

"Why do you care?" Sherlock asked. "I mean, why are you doing this?"

"I promised I would," John said with a shrug.

"Are you a student?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah. Aren't you?"

"I work for the Charity Commission -- I'm investigating charity fraud. Do you have a license to run this booth?" Sherlock asked, finding that he was quite enjoying himself even if he had no idea why.

"No. I hate rules. What are you going to do about it?'

"Arrest you on the spot," Sherlock said. He turned around and said to the few women still in the queue, "I'm sorry, ladies. You'll have to find someone else to kiss this evening." He took a twenty out of his wallet. "For your lost income. Now I'm afraid you'll have to put your hands behind your back and come with me, young man."

John grinned. "You'll never take me alive, copper!" And without thinking he grabbed the till and took off running, weaving through the crowd as he headed to the main entrance where they were collecting the money.

Sherlock laughed and followed the guy -- not running, maintaining a cool walk while keeping him in his sights. He wondered what he was going to do when he caught up with him.

John dropped off the money, quickly told them the booth he worked, and then left the fair. He stayed close, watching the entrance for Thomas.

Sherlock snuck through the side, running ahead a little, so he appeared from behind. "Think you can lose me that easily, Watson?" he said.

John gasped and turned so quickly that he grabbed the man's shirt for a second. Then he let go, ignoring his own embarrassment as he backed up slowly. "You cheated!"

"In my game, I meet a lot of untrustworthy characters. I need to be smarter and quicker." He took out his phone and took a picture of the guy. "I'll need your full name and phone number. And no tricks, please," he said, waiting for the information. 

"No way!" John laughed.

"Shame," Sherlock said, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Well, Watson, I'm sorry we had to meet in these circumstances, but I advise you to not leave town until you've heard from my superiors." He turned and started walking.

"Sorry, I have a party to get to. See you around, I guess!" John backed away a few steps before turning and walking properly away from the fair. He wanted to follow but in reality that man was a complete stranger -- John didn't even know if he was even a student. And that kiss! He didn't know what had got into him. The whole way to the party he thought about scenarios where this man came to find him again -- at the booth, in class, at the party -- but he shook then all off, trying not to get to caught up in all of it.

For a brief second, Sherlock considered trying to locate this so-called Anderson who was having this so-called party, but then reminded himself that his behaviour this evening had already been daft enough. But harmless, he decided. Sherlock knew he did not always have good impulse control, but this time all it resulted in was a bit of fun, including a quite lovely kiss, so what's the problem? He walked home and got back to work on the project he had started at the library.


	2. Liam

John went to the party and hung out with his friends, drinking a little bit and talking to some of the girls that he'd been kissing all night at the booth. He couldn't help looking around for that guy every few minutes, each time feeling his stomach sink a bit and each time reminding himself that he was being stupid. He was pining for a stranger.

"Hello."

John turned and smiled at a girl he didn't think he'd seen at the booth. "Hi."

"Where's your boyfriend?" she asked, looking around excitedly.

"My what?"

"Lee or Liam or something?" She looked so genuine that John actually looked around for a moment.

"I-no. I don't have a boyfriend . . ."

"Oh. He said he'd been waiting for you. So he's not your boyfriend? Is he gay? Is he free?"

"Um. . . sorry, I don't know who you're talking about," John said. The girl sighed and walked off. John watched her, completely confused, before joining his friends again.

At home, Sherlock worked for most of the night. When he decided to take a break, he hacked into the university's computer system, searching for the name Watson. After eliminating the women, he then cross checked the surnames with those listed in the sports club. John Watson. He Googled him. Yes, that's who he was: John Watson.

Then he created a fake email account and sent a message to John Watson's campus email address:

_I am writing from the Charity Commission. Deputy Inspector Thomas has informed us that on the sixth of May you were 'selling kisses' in order to 'help the animals' yet were unable to provide a license to prove you were doing so legally. This is a serious offense. Think of the animals: do they really benefit from tainted money?_

_Do not bother denying your involvement. Inspector Thomas has provided solid evidence -- photographs as well as DNA -- to prove you are the culprit._

_What on earth do you have to say for yourself, John Watson?_

_Liam Allbright, Chief Inspector, Charity Commission of England and Wales_

This made Sherlock feel extremely pleased with himself, and he went back to work.

John was getting ready to leave the party and walk back when his mobile chimed in his pocket. When he saw it was a campus email he ignored it, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. He could look at that in the morning. When he got to his room, he brushed his teeth and climbed into bed, falling asleep almost immediately. He had an odd dream about getting arrested, waking up before he could see the officer.

He took a quick shower and went out for breakfast, only just then remembering the man from last night. He hurried back to his room and thought about the booth tonight, wondering if he was going to show up again. To pass the time he went on the computer, intent on clearing out his inbox.

He read the new message and felt a hundred different things. Nervous at first because he thought he was in trouble. And then excited because this had to be the guy from last night. And then confusion because he saw the name Liam. Hadn't the girl last night asked if that was his boyfriend? Had that man told someone they were dating? Why? He clicked reply and thought for a moment.

_Chief Inspector,_

_The truth is that I was also undercover, trying to find a culprit that runs around and pretends to be in relationships with strangers. It's an odd behaviour that my team has been trying to get to the bottom of for ages. The man your deputy saw could be the guy I'm looking for. I suggest we team up and try to catch this deviant before he disrupts even more lives with his loose tongue and fast words.  
_

_John Watson, Chief Inspector, Public Displays of Affection Office._

Sherlock had fallen asleep at his desk and eventually moved to the small sofa, rather than the bed. When his phone buzzed, he turned and grabbed it, smiling widely when he read the email. He was glad the game was still on.

_Watson,_

_DI Thomas is available this afternoon. Will you be undercover again as a handsome student in a charity kissing booth or should he meet you elsewhere?_

_LA_

John waited by the computer and after a few minutes started to wonder if that was a bit silly. He could be doing anything -- but then the message went bold and there was a small number one by the inbox and he grinned stupidly.

_I will be undercover again because I really do have to catch this guy. He can meet me at the kissing booth but tell him to bring extra money - I can't break my cover._

_JW_

Sherlock had made a cup of tea and was sitting at his desk. He was glad he had worked so much yesterday and last night, so he could let this little adventure play out today.

_I shall pass the information to him immediately. Thank you for working with us on this matter._

_LA_

He stood up stretched and went in to have a shower.

John didn't answer back, getting up instead to get dressed. He kept looking at the computer even though he knew there wouldn't be another response. And then he thought of something else so he sat down again and pulled the email open.

_May I request that, as a form of trust since we'll be working together, your agent should give me his real name? Otherwise I will remain suspicious and his money will be useless.  
_

_JW_

He left it open to wait for the reply, telling to busy himself with homework to pass the time.

Once out of the shower, Sherlock got dressed. He hadn't stumbled into the fair event until the evening, but he wondered what time it would start today. He looked at his phone.

_You may request that. I will let DI Thomas sort that with you. What time shall he see you there?_

_LA_

John smiled.

_Okay. I'll ask him when I see him. I start at eight.  
_

_JW_

To waste more time he went through the website and looked through the pictures on the school site -- clubs and things like that -- but he couldn't find anyone that looked like Thomas or Liam or whatever his real name was.

Sherlock went back to work, filling the afternoon with reading, cups of tea, and an update of his blog. At eight o'clock, he checked himself in the mirror and headed down to the fair. It was less busy, and there was no queue yet at the kissing booth. He walked up to it. "Have you located your pretend boyfriend yet?" he asked, setting a ten pound note on the booth.

John took the ten pounds and then looked up at him. "Unfortunately I can't discuss the case with just anyone," he said. "If there was some way to know I could trust you . . ." He trailed off and smiled up at him.

"You keep taking my money and yesterday you kissed me, yet you don't trust me?" Sherlock asked. "That's quite hurtful . . . and dangerous."

John leaned up and kissed his mouth again, slipping his tongue in but keeping it slow and soft. "I'm working a kissing booth -- I have to," he whispered, holding his gaze. John took a pound from the next girl and kissed her cheek, despite her efforts for more.

Sherlock was surprised by the kiss, but found that he quite liked John's confidence. "What would be so bad about my being your boyfriend anyway? Are you ashamed of me already?" he asked, cheekily.

John gasped dramatically and looked up at him. "You? Surely not! I would have seen the signs -- I'm an excellent inspector," he smiled.

"Well, I can only guess the singing woman spoke to you about us. Did you deny we were together? That's hurtful, John Watson. Especially on our one-day anniversary," Sherlock said, trying to make a sad face.

John raised his brows, kissing the girl who just paid and then her friend. He looked over at the man. "Yes, I denied it because she asked if I was with Liam, but you said you were Thomas. And also Liam in your emails. I think you need to be arrested."

"How is it a crime to have multiple names? Besides those emails weren't from me, they were from my superior," Sherlock said. He turned to look at the two women in the queue behind him. "Do you mind going away? Can't you see we're having a lover's spat here? Please -- give us a little privacy."

John shook his head and waved them up, kissing each of them. "Yes, it's a crime to have multiple names. And that would mean I denied dating your superior so I don't even know why you're upset."

"Well, what have you got against him anyway? He's a great guy -- about my height and weight, same colour hair . . . we've got very similar personalities. Doesn't he pique your interest at all?" Sherlock asked, frowning as John kept kissing the girls.

" _You_ pique my interest and I have no idea who you are," John corrected him.

"Well, you should have just asked. I'm Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock said, reaching out for John's hand but holding it longer than a normal handshake. "Really."

"I did ask!" John laughed, shaking his hand back. "Well, you know my name so --" He cut off and kissed three more girls. "Do you want to get dinner or something after this?"

"I don't think dinner would be appropriate," Sherlock said. "I'm beginning to find your blatant betrayal somewhat hurtful. Not only are you going to parties and speaking to singing girls behind my back, but you're kissing hordes of women right in front of me. I am very worried about this relationship, John Watson, which is a shame as I really thought you were the one." He pushed a woman out of the way, took something out of his pocket, and slid it under John's hand. Sherlock leaned in and kissed him. "I guess this is our goodbye kiss," he said and turned and walked away.

John tried to hold on to him, but he was gone and the girls behind him queued up so quickly he couldn't say anything. At the end of the night he finally looked at the note, his brows furrowed. _You know where to find me. SH_ Where did he mean? John dropped off his money and went to the front entrance, waited for a half hour and realised he wasn't coming. To be safe he stopped at the choir booth, but it was already being taken down. He showed and headed back to his room.

When Sherlock got home, he opened his laptop and brought up his webpage. He didn't know quite how smart this so-called John Watson was, but he hoped it would not take him long to at least locate Sherlock's website, if not Sherlock himself.


	3. Sherlock

In his room, John tossed the note on his desk while he went to the bathroom. When he got out he stared at the note again. Where would he find Sherlock? Sherlock Holmes. John smiled as he thought about the unique name and about the man himself.  He opened the computer and tried a campus search again now that he had a real name. All the variations yielded nothing.

He opened Google instead and typed it in there. Success. The first thing that came up was a blog about science and cases. He was reading through some things when he spotted the contact link.

_So, you really are some kind of agent? JW_

Sherlock was sitting on the sofa reading when he heard a noise from his laptop. He immediately posted a reply.

_Is this about your PDA case? If so, I feel perhaps I should not say anything without my solicitor being present. SH_

_You really do solve cases, though. Who are you? JW_

Sherlock was glad to see he was interested in finding out. How interested? He wrote up a long mathematical equation the answer to which was his mobile number. He posted it as a reply and waited.

John had to do a double take, squinting at the equation Sherlock had sent back. He sighed heavily and got out a sheet of paper, trying to work quickly. He felt extremely pressured and kept making little mistakes. Finally he had an answer and he crossed his fingers. 

_Very clever.  JW_

_Who is this?_

_John. I solved it. JW_

_Solved what?_

John stared at it for a moment and looked over his work. He really hated maths. He found his mistake and did it again.

_Sherlock? JW_

_Impressive, John Watson. SH_

_Am I going to have to do more maths to see you again? Please say no. JW_

_Why do you want to see me again? SH_

_I like you. Well, I think I do. I like kissing you. -JW_

_You sure you don't just like my money? Will I be expected to continue to pay for them? SH_

_That was for the animals. They appreciate it greatly. JW_

_You're still interested in kissing me even if no money changes hands? SH_

_Of course. What kind of man do you think I am?  JW_

_The kind who is on his way to meet me at the cafe near the library? SH_

_How crazy! You got me spot on! JW_

John grabbed his coat and was out on the street before he fully pressed send.

Sherlock slipped on his coat, dropped his phone in his pocket and headed out to the cafe. He got two cups of tea and sat down at a table outside to wait for John Watson to come meet him.

John felt his stomach flipping with nerves as he approached, caught off guard by seeing Sherlock outside. He thought he'd have a bit more time. He came up to the table and sat down, smiling at him. "Hello Sherlock Holmes." 

"Hello, John Watson," Sherlock said. "Do you take sugar in your tea?"

John shook his head. "Just milk, please."

Sherlock pushed on of the mugs over towards John. "Good. I didn't get sugar in either cup," he said, smiling at John.

John smiled wider as he pulled the cup closer. "So you're not a student at my school," he said as he took a sip.

"Correct," Sherlock said. "I am not a student at your school." He crossed his legs and held his mug up to his face. The steam felt nice.

"Where then?" John asked. His age couldn't be that far off from John's.

"I'm a student of life, John Watson," Sherlock said. "And what do you study?" Of course, Sherlock already knew the answer.

"Science. I want to go to medical school," he smiled.

"You've got quite good investigatory skills," Sherlock said. "They should serve you well. Can I ask -- is this the sort of thing you normally do, meeting strange men whom you've already kissed before you even knew their names?"

"No, I don't normally do this sort of thing but there's something about you . . ." John said. He flushed lightly and went back to his tea.

"It's not normally the type of thing I do either," Sherlock confessed. "But there is also . . . something about you that I find . . . interesting. What should we do about this, do you think?"

"Well . . . we could date and see where it goes," John said, looking up at him again.

"Does this not count as a date?" Sherlock asked, setting down his empty mug. "To be honest, this is as close to a date as I've ever been on."

"This could be a date, yes," John nodded. "I would like that."

"Good," Sherlock said. "So what do we do now? You seem to be the expert on these things -- Chief Inspector of PDA and all. What next, John Watson?" He sat up in his chair and leaned a bit closer to John.

"Well, in my department it's all about PDA. My idea is, clearly, we do more of that." John grinned and leaned a bit forward as well.

"Here?" Sherlock asked. "It's getting a bit chilly. My flat is only a few minutes' walk away. Of course, that might not be _public_ enough for you, but perhaps you'd be willing to make an exception. What do you think?"

"Sometimes the 'p' also stands for private. I think that will be okay," John smiled. "But before I agree to go to your flat, you're not going to kidnap me or something, are you?" he teased.

"I most definitely will not kidnap you," Sherlock said. "You will be free to go at anytime. The address is 221B Baker Street if you'd like to text someone to let them know where you'll be. And, of course, the Chief Inspector of the Charity Commission will vouch for me, if you'd like to contact him." He smiled and stood up, starting to walk towards his flat.

"No, I'll trust you," John smiled. When they started walking John tapped his hand lightly and then held it, hoping that was okay.

Sherlock squeezed his hand. When they got back to his flat, he unlocked the door and led John in, motioning for him to sit on the sofa. "Just push the papers out of the way," he said. "I've got tea . . . and I think a bottle of wine. What would you like?" he asked.

"Hmm . . .we did just have tea. So maybe some wine?" John asked.

Sherlock poured two small glasses of wine, bringing them over and sitting close to John on the sofa. "Why were you really doing that kissing thing? Surely, someone like you gets affection in other ways . . . why'd you agree to it?" he asked, taking a small sip of wine.

"My ex was on the committee in charge of putting the whole event together. I promised I would help and I didn't want to back out," John explained. He liked how close Sherlock was; he couldn't stop looking at him.

"That was honourable. Are you always so honourable? I don't think I am," Sherlock said, turning a little to face John. "I hope that won't be a problem for you."

John made a face. "Maybe. Depends on what it's about. You know, you have the loveliest mouth I've ever seen, ever kissed," he grinned. He felt his cheeks warm slightly, but he couldn't help it.

"I suppose I should take that as a compliment, seeing as how you've undoubtedly kissed many, particularly in the last twenty four hours," Sherlock said, smiling before leaning in and giving John a soft but long kiss. He kept his upper body a bit away, making contact only with his mouth and his leg which pressed against John's thigh.

"Just cheeks," John managed before they were kissing again. He smiled into the kiss, bringing his hand up to cup Sherlock's cheek. The warmth on his own face spread through his chest now.

Sherlock pulled back a little. "That was worth the money I spent trying to get your attention," he said. "I hope it won't be the last one," he added, leaning in and kissing John again. This time his hands went to John's hair, and he shifted his body to press more against John's.

John shook his head as best as he could to keep kissing Sherlock, sliding his hand behind Sherlock's neck and gripping his chest lightly with the other. 

Sherlock leaned a bit more into John, pressing him back against the sofa. "I think you've very interesting in many ways, John Watson," he said quietly, dropping his head to kiss John's neck.

"I think you're interesting too," John murmured, clutching his hair a bit harder. "I like you a lot . . . I know we just met but I do . . ."

"Good," Sherlock said. "I am interesting, John Watson. I hope I'll get the chance to show you just how interesting I can be." He put more of his weight on him and slid a hand to John's waist. He kissed him hard again.

For a second John's stomach twisted nervously -- Sherlock's hand on his hip feeling very heavy -- but it was hot and sturdy and he needed more of it. He pushed up against him, shifting to properly lay down on the sofa and get Sherlock on top of him. 

Sherlock lifted himself over John, pressing himself against him and kissing him harder. One hand moved to John's hair which he gripped as he bit softly on his neck again. 

A small sound got stuck in John's throat, slipping out when he bucked up and grinded harder against Sherlock without even realising it. "Sherlock . . ." he breathed, clutching at his back and hair now. 

Sherlock pressed his hips against John's. He gripped John with each of his hands and moved to kiss his mouth again, long and hard and wet.

John hummed into the kiss -- he really loved Sherlock's mouth -- and his hands continued exploring. He moved them down over Sherlock's back and around to hold his hips. He traced the muscles and wished he could pull the shirt right off. _You just met! But I want to!_ His brain was shouting, needing. 

Sherlock slid one of his hands under John's jumper when his phone rang. He ignored it, but after a few minutes, it rang again. He sat back and pulled his phone out. "I'm sorry," he said to John. He put the phone to his head and said, "You couldn't have picked a worse time, this had better be important."

"Do you have a student in your flat?" Mycroft said, even though he knew the answer. "No students, Sherlock, that was the rule. Lestrade's just been on the phone -- there's been a theft on campus. Get the student out of there immediately and do not invite him back." He hung up the phone.

Sherlock slipped his phone into his pocket and looked up at John. "I'm sorry," he said. "I think this evening will need to come to an end."

"I-you want me to leave?" John asked, scooting to the edge of the sofa. He glanced down and hoped Sherlock wouldn't look. 

Sherlock looked up and smiled. "I'm sorry -- some work has come up." He leaned over and put his hand on John's thigh, squeezing it lightly. "I hope we can see each other again, John Watson," he said, leaning in and kissing him again. Then he pulled back and stood up. "I'll give you a call tomorrow, yeah?"

John stood up with him and nodded. "Yeah, sure," he agreed. He took an awkward step to adjust himself a bit before heading towards the door. "I hope your work goes okay," he added before smiling softly and leaving. He decided to walk back, hoping that would help his situation, but he'd been stupid to think he would be able to stop thinking about it.

Sherlock logged onto his computer and found an email from Lestrade, warning him that he'd better have nothing to do with the theft. He rang him immediately -- denying any connection but trying to get as many details as possible. Lestrade was not very forthcoming; despite Sherlock's help on a few recent cases, the DI clearly had not forgotten what had caused Sherlock to be kicked out of his last university.

"Sherlock, just stay out of this one, please," Lestrade said. "I've already taken a few witness statements, many of whom described a rude and mysterious man who clearly is you. Your brother does not want you involved in any way, and, quite honestly, you shouldn't want to be either."

"But I'm always on the campus. I could easily get information," Sherlock said. He was annoyed at being told no -- it didn't matter who was telling him no, it annoyed him.

"No," Lestrade said emphatically. "You'll need to stay off campus for a few days and away from all students. Give me your word."  
  
Sherlock humphed loudly. "Fine," he said and hung up the phone.

He made a cup of tea for himself, double checked that the door was locked, and turned off all the lights. He climbed into his bed and took out his phone.

_I apologise again for the way the night ended. I'd like to see you again. SH_

Back in his room, John turned off all the lights and lay down, trying to clear his mind and relax. But it still wasn't helping -- in fact, in the dark all alone it seemed like he could hear everything more clearly. The kissing, the panting, the soft moans . . . he was still hard. Before he could think better off of it, John pushed his hand into his pants and wrapped his hand around himself. He let his mind go, imagining what might have happened if he had stayed. He imagined clothes being tossed around the sitting room, both of their mouths on each other, and Sherlock pushing into his body. John came in his pants, whispering Sherlock's name into the dark.

He felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment as he sat up to put on something clean. That's when his phone vibrated beside him and he paused. Now he felt even more embarrassed. He changed quickly and lay back down.

_That's okay. I'd like to see you again, too. JW_

_This is awkward, though. I'll have to ask you not to tell anyone. I can explain later, but if we see each other again, it'll have to be a secret. No one can know. SH_

John stared at the message for a moment. A secret? Why? Was Sherlock not out yet?  No, that couldn't be it because he was kissing John in front of everyone at the booth. Was it because of his work? Was he really an undercover agent? John knew about the cases on his website but how serious was this? John was even more intrigued and curious now.

_I won't tell anyone. I promise. -JW_

_Good. When can I see you? SH_

_My classes are usually done by five. -JW_

_Tomorrow then. There's a little shop on the corner of my street. When you get there, ring me. SH_

_All right. JW_

_Get yourself to the shop unnoticed. As long as the coast is clear, you can arrive here as a delivery boy. Can you handle a little adventure, John Watson? SH_

_Of course I can. It sounds exciting. -JW_

_Good. I look forward to tomorrow. SH_

_Any specific time? -JW_

_Quite frankly I'd like to see you the moment your classes finish. However, I appreciate you may have things to do. I shall wait for your call anytime after 5 tomorrow. SH_

_Unless I surprise you. Adventure, right? JW_

Sherlock smiled and then frowned.

_Normally, yes. But until I can explain, no surprises, please. SH_

_I just meant if I come over without texting first. Will that be okay? JW_

_No. Text first, please. I'm sorry for the complications. I will do my best to make it worth the hassle. SH_

_Okay. That's okay. I'll see you tomorrow. JW_

Sherlock rolled over in his bed, thinking about what had happened. He looked at the photo he had taken of John yesterday. He wasn't sure why he had started this thing with John yesterday, why he continued it today, and why he was planning on continuing tomorrow. He thought carefully. Had he only invited John back just to spite his brother and Lestrade? He thought about lying on top of John on the sofa. That's why he invited him back. He really fancied John. Plus there clearly was something intriguing about this guy. He felt okay about it. He'd find out more about John tomorrow.

John set his alarm and turned away from his phone, thinking that might help him sleep better. He couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock but he tried to keep his mind away from the sofa and more towards what they were going to do tomorrow. He fell asleep planning his adventure.


	4. Mycroft

In the morning, Sherlock spent a few hours trying to find out what he could about the missing money. It crossed his mind that maybe John was in on it -- and for a minute that kind of made Sherlock like him more. However, John seemed much too honorable for that. He picked up his phone.

_I hope your day's going well. SH_

John was in the middle of his maths class when the text came through and he smiled.

_I'm in maths. I need to pay attention so I can get another date. JW_

Sherlock smiled at the text. Then his phone buzzed again.

_I need you this evening. MH_

Sherlock frowned.

_Busy. SH_

_I'll be round at seven. MH_

_Please don't. SH_

_Are you being a naughty boy, brother? MH_

_I've got work. Leave me alone. SH_

Sherlock put his phone away as if that ensured he'd had the final word. He tidied the flat a bit and waited for John's text.

At five John all but ran back to his dorm.  He took a fast shower and headed off to Sherlock's again. He sent a quick text to let him know he was on his way and then paused on the corner. There were several shops near the flat and for a moment  he panicked.  And then he grinned. A pizza delivery boy hung his jacket and hat over his bike while he went inside for his next order. John passed by and took them, slipping them on as he entered the building.  He pulled the hat down low and knocked on Sherlock's door. "Delivery!" he said with a deep voice.

Sherlock heard the knock at the door. He stood up quickly and opened the door. "John?" he said, pulling him in quickly. "You didn't text." He pushed the door shut and moved the away from it.

"I did!" John said, looking up at him from under the cap. Had it not gone through? He pulled out his phone to check.

Sherlock checked his phone. He saw the text from John and another one from Mycroft. "Sorry -- I was ignoring my brother." He pulled the curtain shut. "Did anyone see you come in?"

John shook his head.

Sherlock moved over to John and gave him a small kiss on the mouth. "I'm sorry about all this," he said. "It's not very nice for our second date." He moved into the kitchen and put on the kettle. "How was class then, all right?"

"It was all right. Boring, to be honest with you," he said as he took off the jacket and hat. "What did you do today?"

"You didn't take the money from the charity fair, did you?" Sherlock asked.

"What? You mean, did I steal it?" John asked, furrowing his brows. "No! You saw me give it back the first time because you were chasing me. And I did the second night, too. What's going on?"

"Quite a bit of money has been stolen, and I'm trying to figure out who took it. But without going on the campus. And without talking to any students . . . except you, of course," Sherlock said.

"Why can't you go on campus or talk to any students?" John asked. 

"Because my name can't be involved . . . I had a bit of trouble at another university and it's . . . it's just better if I'm not involved. Except I want to solve it. Because . . . that's what I'm good at," Sherlock said. "But I wanted to see you. Not for the case. Just . . . because." He looked at John awkwardly as he handed him his cup of tea.

"What sort of trouble?" John asked, taking the cup of tea from him. He knew he should focus on the part where Sherlock said he wanted to see him but he couldn't for the moment. He kept forgetting that Sherlock was a complete stranger -- there was something charming about him that made John feel like he'd known him forever. But he hadn't. 

"It was totally a misunderstanding, of course. I simply borrowed some school property that was necessary to solve an issue I was working on, and it was . . . misunderstood. So I've now been instructed to stay away from any student-based activities until this whole thing is sorted. Which is part of why I'd like to sort it obviously," Sherlock said. "I hope that doesn't put you off me."

John raised his brows and looked down at his tea. He didn't seem like a bad person. He wanted to trust him -- he liked Sherlock so much.  John looked up again and shook his head. "It doesn't put me off you," he smiled softly.

"Good," Sherlock said. "I can tell you about the other stuff later." He moved a little closer to John on the sofa. "Did you like what happened on this sofa last night?" he asked, taking a sip of tea.

John flushed and for a wild moment he thought Sherlock knew what he had done when he got home. "Yeah," he murmured, sipping at his tea to try and seem less awkward. 

"I liked it as well," Sherlock said. "Did you want to talk about it or just do more of it?"

"What would we talk about?" John asked, setting his mug on the small table. "Doing is more effective, I think." He scooted a bit closer so their legs were touching. 

"Excellent point," Sherlock said. He leaned in and kissed John's mouth again -- longer than the hello kiss he had given him earlier. "Yes," he said, breaking the kiss. "As nice as last night's . . ." he added, leaning in and kissing him again.

John brought his hand up to his face and shook his head. "We have to make it better," he smiled, kissing Sherlock again a bit harder. 

This time Sherlock pulled John towards him as he leaned back on the sofa. His hand went to John's hair as he deepened the kiss.

John moved with him and settled on top of Sherlock without breaking the kiss. This helped John forget the fact that he was a stranger, that he had a possibly dark past. Or maybe that was too dramatic of a description. John forced his brain to shut up and focus on the taste of Sherlock's mouth -- the softness of his lips as they moved against his own. That was better. 

Sherlock slid his hands down John's back, pulling his body closer. "I'm glad you came over," he said. "I didn't want you to leave last night."

John met his gaze. "Do I have to leave tonight?" he asked quietly, kissing Sherlock's cheek and jaw line. 

"No," Sherlock said. "Stay."

John moved down to his neck, still kissing and sucking softly. "I really want to, Sherlock."

Sherlock lifted his head slightly, making it easier for John to reach him. He pushed his hips up just a bit against John's body and made a soft humming noise. "Good," he said quietly.

John moaned against his skin and nipped softly and he bucked and grinded down against Sherlock. "I thought of you last night," he murmured, too caught up in the moment to feel embarrassed about it. 

"I like the sound of that," Sherlock whispered. Suddenly Sherlock stopped and abruptly sat up. "Someone's here," he said, standing and readjusting himself. He pulled John up by the hand, pushing him along to the bedroom. "Try not to make any noise," he said, "I'll get rid of him."

Sherlock pulled the bedroom door almost all the way shut, leaving it a few inches open as not to attract Mycroft's suspicions. He flew to his desk and scattered some papers around, opening his laptop and putting his mug next to it. He grabbed John's mug and put it in the fridge. Then he opened the door just as Mycroft was about to knock.

"I said I was busy," Sherlock said as Mycroft pushed himself in.

"That's a very rude way to welcome me," Mycroft said. "I shan't stay long -- I just thought I'd stop by to check . . . that all is well." He scanned the flat as he spoke.

"All's fine," Sherlock said, still standing at the door, holding it open.

"Did you take that money, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, looking directly at him.

"Of course not," Sherlock said. "Why would I?"

"I rarely understand much of what you do," Mycroft said. His voice became more serious. "Stay away from the college. Until Lestrade solves this. We don't need any more trouble so just stay away from everything. And everyone." He moved towards the door. "I guess you won't accompany me to dinner, then, seeing as how you've been enjoying some pizza." He left, pulling the door behind him.

Sherlock rushed to the window, waiting until Mycroft got into his car and it pulled away. He glanced at the table and saw the jacket and cap John had been wearing when he came in. Then he moved to the bedroom and pushed the door open. "John?" he said quietly. "I'm sorry."


	5. John

John had scrambled off of Sherlock and stared at the door as Sherlock almost closed it. He moved a bit closer to listen. He listened curiously to this man accusing Sherlock of taking the money and then heard his friend's name or he meant maybe his dad who was in the Yard already. And then he made the comment about the pizza and John's heart stopped, his stomach twisting. How could he gave forgotten that?

He jumped a bit when Sherlock spoke, moving closer to the door again. "I forgot about the coat, Sherlock. I hope you're not in trouble. I'm sorry."

Sherlock stepped forward and wrapped his arms around John. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "You seem so normal and good and nothing around here is ever normal or good. I'm sorry I got you into all this mess. I don't know why I started it the other day and I don't know why I kept it going except I . . . like being around you."

John pressed into him, wrapping his own arms around Sherlock's waist. "I like you a lot, Sherlock. I don't care about all of that." And as he said it he realised it was true. Even if Sherlock had stolen the money or got kicked out his old school -- he liked being with him. Just hugging like this felt good.

Sherlock took a step back and pulled John down on the bed with him, putting soft kisses all over his face. He wiggled their bodies so their legs were tangled and squeezed his arms around him, nuzzling and nipping and kissing him.

A small sounds left John's throat as he lay with Sherlock, curling to get as close as he possibly could. He wrapped his arm around him, kissed back when his lips were close, and leaned into the other kisses.

"The door is locked, my phone is in the other room . . . I won't let anything interrupt us," Sherlock said softly as he shifted to lean a bit over John, kissing him hard on the mouth now.

John hummed his agreement as he put his whole self into the kiss, pushing his body up to stay on Sherlock's. His hands were everywhere -- in his hair and along his back and then under his shirt.

Sherlock sat up a little and began unbuttoning his shirt. He pulled it off and dropped it off the bed, pulling on John's jumper, encouraging him to do the same.

John pulled his jumper and shirt off together, his eyes moving over Sherlock's chest before meeting his gaze. He flushed lightly as he smiled. "I was less nervous in my head," he admitted, scooting a bit closer.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," Sherlock said quietly. "We're just kissing." He leaned down again, pressing himself against John as he kissed him again. Where their skin met felt warm and sent electricity through Sherlock's whole body.

_Just kissing. Naked. Almost._ John tried to shut off his brain -- easily done when Sherlock's skin touched his own. Oh. He could do this, he wanted this. John kissed him a bit harder, finding Sherlock's tongue and deepening the kiss.  

Sherlock moved one hand down John's back and rested it on his hip, pulling it towards him. He began to rock gently against John as he continued the long, wet kiss.

John moaned softly, rocking back against Sherlock as he snaked his arm around him and held him closer. He could feel Sherlock through his trousers, which only made John harder.

"Should we take off the rest of our clothes?" Sherlock asked. He was already kicking off his shoes, and he rested his hands on John's belt buckle.

John nodded. "I wanted to tell you that, but I didn't want to stop kissing," he admitted. He put his own hands on the button of Sherlock's trousers, working it open.

Sherlock opened John's jeans and helped him out of them before wiggling his way out of his own. Once they were naked, he leaned into him again and wrapped his arms around him, kissing his mouth over and over.

John felt a lot warmer now, pressing against Sherlock to feel every inch of his bare skin.

"Let's get under the covers," Sherlock said, shifting and pulling them down. Once they were underneath, he squeezed in again, holding John and pressing his mouth against his neck. Then he moved to get on top of John, his legs separating John's a little to rest between them. He looked down as he stroked John's hair with one hand and then kissed his mouth hard again.

John gazed up at him for just a second before they were kissing again. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock to keep him close, keeping his legs open so they could be comfortably linked together.

As Sherlock kissed John, he slowly moved his hips against John's, their cocks rubbing together. It felt so good.

John moaned with surprise and pleasure -- he'd never felt anything like that before and he liked it. He wanted so much more of that. He bucked up against Sherlock, wanting to feel more of him. Nothing was enough. 

Sherlock slid his hands down to John's and reached them up over John's head as he trailed his tongue down one of John's arms across his collarbone and down to his chest, where he sucked one of his nipples into his mouth.

John moaned and arched up a bit, trying to pull at his hands. He wanted to keep touching so badly. He tried to lift his head, trying to see him as well. He just wanted everything. "Sherlock, let me do something . . ." he said, letting his head fall back again. 

Sherlock let John's hands go. "Will you touch me?" he asked softly, reaching one of his own hands down to hold John's cock.

John's hands found his shoulders, then slid down his arms, back up to his sides and back and hips before settling one his arse and squeezing lightly. He brought one hand between them and gripped Sherlock, stroking him slowly. "I don't have enough hands to touch as much as I want," he said, kissing Sherlock's jaw and neck. 

Sherlock smiled down at John. He kept a steady rhythm on his cock, matching it to the movement of his hips. "Is this okay? Is this how you like it?" he asked, dropping a kiss on John's forehead.

John nodded, finding his mouth and kissing him hard instead of properly answering. What was Sherlock doing to him? He felt like he was going crazy.

"It feels good to me," Sherlock said softly. He let his body go a little bit more while still trying to focus on the movement of his hand. "You're going to make me come, John."

"Me too . . . don't you want to?" John asked quietly, panting softly as he gazed up at Sherlock.

"I definitely do," Sherlock said, looking down and smiling. "Is it okay if I do?" he asked.

John nodded again. "M'so close . . ." And then he imagined Sherlock coming and he squeezed his eyes shut, coming against their bellies. He forced his eyes open, not wanting to miss the first time. 

"Fuck, that's sexy," Sherlock moaned as he came as well. He dropped his head to the pillow next to John's and panted on top of him before he moved a little over so that not all of his weight rested on John. "That was fantastic," he said, smiling as he looked over.

John watched him and it was even better seeing it in person than it'd been last night in his imagination. When Sherlock moved to the side he turned to face him and curled close. "It was. You're driving me crazy," he smiled.

"I hope you liked it. We made it through with no interruptions," he laughed, still a little embarrassed by all that.

"We did," John smiled. He reached over and touched Sherlock's cheek softly. "You won't be in trouble, will you?"

"Probably," Sherlock said. "But I'll sort it. This is the first time I've ever . . . become friends with a student, and obviously I've got nothing to do with the money, so really neither my brother nor the police should have a say about my own business. I'm not a child." He curled up against John, resting a hand on his chest. "Will you stay the night?"

"I would really like to," John admitted. "I hope that you won't be in too much trouble. I can try and help with the money, if you want."

Sherlock smiled. "Maybe . . . we'll see. Are you sleepy? Do you want to go to sleep now?" His fingers drew mindless circles on John's chest.

"In a little bit. I wish we could pause the time so I could learn everything about you. Then this feeling wouldn't be so scary," he said softly.

Sherlock lifted his head. "Why are you scared? Am I scaring you? John, I swear, I'm not a criminal . . ."

"No! Not scared like that -- or even about that. I'm scared of what I'm feeling because . . . well, we just met."

Sherlock put his head back on the pillow. "Oh . . . well, what should we do about that, do you think?"

John shrugged.  "I don't want to stop seeing you. I want to clear this up so we can hang out and go out properly," he said. 

"Hold on," Sherlock said, sitting up again. "What is it that's bothering you? Having feelings for me after just a few days or having feelings for someone whose situation is . . . complicated?"

"Having feelings for someone so soon," John said, sitting up as well.

"Okay," Sherlock said. "I wish I could help, John Watson. But I'm afraid this is the first time I've ever had feelings for someone -- soon or not -- so I'm afraid any advice I'd offer would be foolish."

"I just want . . .I don't want you to disappear," John said quietly.

"I doubt I will," Sherlock said. "I mean, I won't. I mean, I know we've not known each other long, but . . . this, you, you're different. I just mean, because of this, I . . . I just . . . won't disappear, okay?" He felt his face redden from his awkward little ramble.

John leaned forward and kissed him softly. "I won't disappear either. I want to see where this goes."

"You sure you don't just mean you want to stick around until we get to the shagging?" Sherlock said, smiling and pinching John's arm lightly. "Pervert."

"No!" John laughed, shoving his arm.

"So . . . no shagging then?" Sherlock asked.

"Well yeah but, I mean, that's not the only reason," John stammered shyly.

Sherlock leaned over and kissed John on the mouth. "Shush, stop talking now. There will be shagging at some point if you're interested." He rolled over flat on his back and reached down to hold John's hand. "I'm a bit . . . sticky," he added quietly.

"Wait here," John said. He wrapped himself in the sheet and hurried to the bathroom, wetting a flannel with warm water. He climbed back into the bed and started cleaning him off.

Sherlock lay back and let John clean him. "This is a little weird," he said, smiling genuinely. "I just mean I don't think any human had ever done this to me before."

"Well, I caused it so it's only fair," John said quietly.  When he was done he lay down again and got comfortable.

Sherlock turned over and curled into John. "You're quite sweet, you know," he said, snuggling against John's shoulder.

John smiled. "I'm trying to win you over," he teased.

"Don't you know you already have? Even if neither of us completely understand it -- clearly you have," Sherlock said.

John smiled softly and scooted closer. "I might not be able to help with the theft, but I'm going to help you solve the feelings mystery," he said.

"Well, I'll defer to your experience. How long does it usually take you to feel this way about someone?" Sherlock asked, putting his arm around John and pulling him closer.

John hid his face a bit. "I don't know . . . there's something about you."

"Do you think that's a good thing? I mean, feeling like this at all, let alone so quickly," Sherlock asked genuinely.

"Yes because it feels good," John said. "Even though I'm afraid of it," he smiled softly.

"Afraid of feeling good?"

"Of losing it, I suppose," John admitted.

"You've had it, what, 24 hours and you're already preparing to lose it?"

"I just . . . I haven't known you for very long and it's a legit worry. Aren't you worried at all?"

"I'm trying not to worry," Sherlock said. "I've never ever felt anything like this before. In all honesty, I rarely feel anything but annoyed. But it feels good and I've analysed any possible negative reasons for feeling this way, and I've come up empty so I'm trying not to worry and just . . . feel it, I guess."

John leaned up and kissed his jaw lightly. "I am going to just feel it, too. I won't worry either, okay?"

"Good," Sherlock said. "I suppose you should probably tell me if you're worried, because it seems like that's the kind of thing that's done." He rolled onto his back again and stared up at the ceiling. "What now?" he asked, mindlessly stroking his hand through his hair.

"Sleep, I thought," John said. He pushed himself up and looked down at Sherlock. "Are you tired?"

"No," Sherlock said. "I was kind of hoping to have sex with you."

The suddenness of the statement made John flush darkly. "I-oh. Now?"

"Now could be a possibility or another time would also work, if you're too tired . . . or not sure," Sherlock said. He was still looking at the ceiling, but he reached over and held John's hand.

John squeezed his hand. "Just nervous. I do want to. I thought of it when I went home last night."

"I thought you were just thinking about the sofa business," Sherlock said, smiling at him.

"My mind wandered," he smiled back. He was glad Sherlock had looked over. He felt so much more reassured seeing his face, his eyes.

Sherlock leaned in and kissed John softly on the mouth. "Let's just do whatever we feel like doing tonight, okay? I feel like kissing more." He moved closer and wrapped his arms around John.

"I like that plan," John murmured, moving his own arms to hold Sherlock close.

Sherlock kissed John again, this time more slowly and longer. His tongue slipped into John's mouth to taste him and his hands pressed John's back. "This does feel good," he said, when he pulled away to kiss down John's neck.

"Did you think about this when I left?" John asked, tilting his head a bit.

"Kind of. I was suppose I was thinking about why I liked you so much," Sherlock said, starting to rock ever so slightly against John.

"Mine was dirtier," John smiled softly, loving the words anyways.

"Well, part of why I like you is pretty dirty," Sherlock said cheekily. "But that's not the only reason."

John grinned. He moved to get himself over Sherlock, kissing him and rolling his hips. "You didn't think of anything dirty?"

"Of course," Sherlock said, looking up at John over him. "I thought about what we did last night and what we might do at some later point. Of course, I thought of that." He lifted his head to kiss John as he rested his hands on John's hips, moving with them as they rolled against Sherlock.

"Have you, you know, done it before?" John rolled his hips with each word, getting harder.

"I have done it before," Sherlock said, sucking John's neck. "But never with you and that's all that matters."

"I've not done it with a guy," John admitted. "But I want to do it with you."

"We don't have to," Sherlock said, focusing on kissing him. "But if you do want to do it tonight, I have the things we need in that drawer right there." He looked over to the bedside cabinet.

John nodded. "I really do want to, Sherlock." He leaned down and kissed him, a slow but a bit forceful kiss.

"Well, I don't want to ruin the moment, but it's not like with a girl. You'll have to use your fingers first, okay? There's lube in there, which will help, and condoms. You can figure it out -- only do what you want to do. Promise, yeah?" Sherlock smiled up at him.

"Am I going to hurt you?" John asked, moving to get the lube and the condoms. He knew it would be different -- and he had seen movies before -- but he didn't want to ruin everything. 

"No," Sherlock said, rolling over and facing John. "You don't have to worry about hurting me -- I promise you that. I'll let you know when I'm ready. It's an unusual feeling but it doesn't hurt, not really."

John nodded again. "Are you going to get on your hands and knees?" He moved to get lower on the bed so he could be behind Sherlock. 

"No, I don't like that," Sherlock said, rolling flat on his back. "You get between my legs. You'll figure it out," he added, smiling cheekily.

John moved between his legs and made a small sound when Sherlock pulled his legs back a bit. This was better because he could watch Sherlock's face. He poured a bit of lube on his entrance and then on his fingers. He looked up at Sherlock and touched him lightly. He bit his lip and pushed his finger into Sherlock. 

"Come kiss me," Sherlock said, reaching a hand to John's face. "Don't concentrate on just that -- stay there but lean over so we can kiss."

John flushed lightly and realised he was being a bit awkward. He leaned over and kissed Sherlock, slowly moving his finger in and out. 

Sherlock put his hands to the back of John's head, pulling it deeper into the kiss. Then he moved his mouth to the side and said, "It feels good" against his cheek. 

John moved his finger faster, gently easing in a second one. "I want you to feel good," he said softly.

"You're doing it just right," Sherlock moaned quietly, letting his hips rock to the rhythm of John's fingers. He reached down and held John's cock, just rubbing it softly with his hand before curling his fingers into a stroke.

John's mouth fell open a bit as processed everything he was feeling. He stretched his fingers, curving them lightly when he was inside Sherlock before he pulled out and did it again. 

"God," Sherlock moaned again. "Yes, John, that's good . . ." He tried his best to keep his movement steady on John's cock, but he was starting to feel overwhelmed. It'd been a while since he'd done this, and it'd never felt this good before.

John felt warmer with the praise, glad that he could make Sherlock feel so good. He looked down, watching his fingers for a moment. "You're so sexy . . . do you want more?" he asked, bucking lightly into Sherlock's hand. 

"I don't want to stop . . ." Sherlock said, his breath now becoming heavier. "Do you?"

"I don't either. I want to fuck you," John said. He flushed lightly at the words but he was almost aching with need. His fingers were moving more easily now and his cock was leaking in Sherlock's hand. He felt like they were both ready but he waited for Sherlock. 

Sherlock smiled at John's bluntness -- he had the feeling that it was maybe the first time he'd said something like that. "Yes, please," Sherlock said, his hand moving from John's cock to just lightly hold his own. "Condom, don't forget . . . go slow at the start." He lay his head back and closed his eyes for a minute, concentrating on the feeling of John's fingers before they moved away.

John slowly slipped his fingers out and tore open the condom, rolling it on quickly. He lined up, leaned over Sherlock a bit, and then slowly pushed into him. It was tight and hot, and he moved very slowly. "God, Sherlock," he moaned.

Sherlock felt John moving slowly into him. "Fuck," he said under his breath. "It's good," he added to clarify. When John was all the way in, he said, "Stay here for a minute" as he reached up and pulled John down to him for a kiss. Then he took a deep breath and said, "You can move now."  
  
John waited like Sherlock asked, whimpering softly as the hot tightness of his body squeezed around him. And then he was moving, rolling his hips into Sherlock.

"John," Sherlock moaned. "John, god, it feels good." His hand moved slowly on his cock and he leaned up and kissed John hard.  
  
John nodded, moaning into the kiss. "You feel incredible," he panted. 

Sherlock pulled his legs a little more apart. His other hand pressed against John's back. "I want you to feel good, John," he said. "I want you to remember this."

John whimpered a little and nodded.

Sherlock's hand moved a bit faster. "I'm not going to last much longer . . ." he moaned softly.

John shook his head. "Me either," he panted. Nothing had ever felt so good -- he was surprised he was still holding himself together. 

Sherlock did his best to follow John's rhythm -- with his own hand and with his hips. He squeezed shut his eyes tight and then called John's name, his cock jerking against his hand, spraying their bellies.

That was what finally pushed John over the edge. Not only watching Sherlock come, but _feeling_ it so intensely. Sherlock's body squeezed around him and pulled him in a bit deeper and suddenly John was calling out and coming. He slumped over Sherlock, panting heavily into his neck. 

"Are you okay? Are you glad we did it? I am, John," Sherlock said. "I don't understand my feelings, but I'm so glad we shared this," he added, the words rushing a bit out of his mouth.

John shifted and pulled the condom off before lying over Sherlock again, nodding against his shoulder. "I am glad, Sherlock. It was . . . I'm glad it was with you," he said.

Sherlock rolled them over so they were face to face. He lifted one hand to John's cheek. "I'm glad we met, John Watson," he said softly and leaned in to give him a soft kiss.

"Me too, Sherlock. I'm glad I didn't back out of working the booth," he smiled softly. 

"Yes, for once in my life, someone's honour seems to have paid off," Sherlock said. "You're really handsome, you know?" he said, petting John's face a little.

John smiled shyly. "You are as well. I couldn't stop looking at you. I was glad you came up for a kiss," he admitted. 

"Yeah, that was a little forward of me," Sherlock said, laughing. "I had no idea why I was doing any of that."

"Forward of you? At least coming up for a kiss was normal. I took your money and snogged you senseless -- against the rules, mind you. You have a rebel on your hands," John grinned.   
  
"I'm glad," Sherlock said. "I like you, John," he added softly. He gave him another soft kiss.

"I like you too, Sherlock. I'm going to help you solve your case and we're going to go out, okay?" He kissed Sherlock again before closing his eyes and sighing sleepily. 

"All right, smartie pants," Sherlock said. "In the morning you can solve everything and then we'll go out." He snuggled against John and felt both their breathing change as they started to fall asleep. 

John fell asleep thinking about the case and who could have taken the money, but mostly what would happen after they figured it out. Sherlock would be cleared and it would be okay to hang out with students again. They could go on dates and John could show him off. He smiled softly before sleep finally took him.


	6. Mycroft (Again)

_I'll bring you home if you keep this up. MH_

Sherlock felt a panic when he woke up next to John and it worsened when he saw the text from Mycroft. He had let himself get carried away last night, but there was something about John that seemed so . . . good. Sherlock didn't know what that would mean for himself, but he knew what it would mean for Mycroft.

"John," Sherlock said, softly pushing on his arm. "You should probably go."

John shifted and started to get comfortable again when he realised what Sherlock had said. He opened his eyes and sat up again. "I thought it was okay this time," he said, pushing himself up to be sitting properly. 

"I'm sorry," Sherlock said, looking over at John. He was so handsome and what had happened last night flashed in Sherlock's mind and he couldn't help but smile. "I'm just worried about . . . you know, the other stuff, and I don't want there to be any repercussions for you . . . being with someone like me. Until it's all sorted, I mean."  
  
"But no one is here," John said. As he moved in to kiss Sherlock he noticed his phone and pulled back. "Is it the man that was here before?" 

"It is," Sherlock said. He leaned over and gave John a kiss. "I meant everything I said last night and I'm so . . .what happened between us, I don't regret it. It means so much, I can't even begin to explain." He sat back a little and held John's hand. "But my brother can make things very difficult for me and I don't want you to end up affected as well."

John squeezed his hand lightly and got up to get dressed. "I don't want to make trouble for you. I don't regret it either and I did promise that I could do this, the secret part," he said. "I'll go ask around about the money and just report back later, okay?"

"All right," Sherlock said, smiling a little. He wished he could just tell John to stay. Why did Mycroft have to ruin everything for Sherlock? "Text, though, yeah?" He slid out of bed and slipped his pajamas on. "I'll try to work on things here. If I need you to check anything out for me, I'll let you know."

"Okay. But I won't come over again until you actually answer me this time," John said. He smiled softly and kissed Sherlock one more time. "I'll see you later." He grabbed his coat and left Sherlock's flat, heading back to school. He was making a mental list of who had worked the booths and who he was going to talk to first. He knew it needed to stay quiet so he was going to have to be careful. 

Sherlock lay back down on the bed for a few minutes, just remembering what had happened there last night. He still had no idea why John had made him feel and do the things he'd done, but he wasn't lying -- he didn't regret any of it. He smiled a little, remembering that it had been the first time for John. That meant even more to Sherlock.

Then he heard a knock at the door. For a second he thought it might be John again, but then his logical brain kicked in and he knew it would be his brother. He tried to straighten up the bed a bit, hiding the lube and box of condoms away. He flicked the kettle on as he made his way to the door. He took a deep breath and then opened it.

Mycroft pushed into the room, shutting the door behind him. "I am older than you, Sherlock," he said as he made his way to the table and sat down.

"Yes, I'm aware," Sherlock said, trying to keep his voice light. He poured two cups of tea and sat down at the table as well. He pushed one towards Mycroft. "Is that what you've come over to tell me?"

Mycroft ignored both the tea and the question. "As the older brother, I am responsible for you," he said.

"I'm not a child," Sherlock interrupted.

"No, but you behave impulsively. It's what got you in trouble at university and it's what involving you in trouble here." He stared at Sherlock in a way that was both blank and intense simultaneously. Sherlock had learned how to give that stare -- had used it a few times himself -- but he hated being on this end of it.

"You're right, Sherlock, you're not a child," Mycroft went on. "But you are a young man and young men make foolish decisions. I believe you when you say you didn't take the money. But money isn't the only thing young men desire."

Sherlock's face flushed and he looked down at his mug.

"We are not like other people, Sherlock," Mycroft said. "You need to do more than understand that."  
  
"Maybe I'm not like you," Sherlock said feebly.

"Oh brother -- now you know that's not true, don't you? You have to start behaving properly. You need to stay off campus until this theft is sorted and there will be no more . . . pizza deliveries to this flat."

"You don't understand," Sherlock mumbled.

"Perhaps I don't," Mycroft said. "But you don't understand either, do you, Sherlock? Because it's not logical, it doesn't make sense -- all it does is distract you from the things you are good at. You've been given an opportunity to prove yourself after your bad choices. Keep working on your skills, Sherlock, and we'll be able to get you a place at another university. But do _not_ squander your abilities chasing . . . momentary distractions."

Sherlock looked up. Mycroft was right -- he didn't understand his feelings for John. But he did know that whatever was happening between John and him was more than a momentary distraction. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I mean it, Sherlock. You stop it," Mycroft said. "Or I do."

"Fuck off and leave me alone," Sherlock said, hating how immature the words sounded coming out of his mouth.

"I shall do neither," Mycroft said. "You know that I only want the best for you. I've already been in touch with Lestrade to insure this issue does not affect future work he might give you. But Sherlock, stop pushing against me. We're brothers -- we should both heading towards the same goal."

Sherlock hated that -- he hated how Mycroft could say words that Sherlock knew were all true, but still behave in a way that felt so cruel and controlling. He took a deep breath. "I understand, Mycroft," he said.

"Good --"

"-- but," Sherlock continued, "even though you and I are different to others, we are also not the same as each other. I have not misbehaved once since you arranged for me to live here. I have made use of the university's resources without ever . . . taking advantage." He paused and then added, "All I have done is made a new friend."  
  
Mycroft smiled at the word friend, but Sherlock couldn't tell if it was because he knew John was more than a friend or if the thought of Sherlock even having a friend was laughable. Mycroft moved his fingers over the rim of the mug but still didn't pick it up. He stayed silent until Sherlock looked away.

Then Mycroft stood up from the table and said, "Well, if your new friend is truly a friend, I'm sure he won't mind waiting for you. When you get back to university, Sherlock, perhaps then we can discuss the possibility of your having a friend. Until then, you are here for one reason only. I promised Mother I would keep you on the straight and narrow and I take my responsibilities very seriously." He moved to the door. "Earn my trust, Sherlock. End it now . . . or I will."  
  
"You wouldn't," Sherlock said, standing up quickly but Mycroft was already gone.

John first went to find Greg. He would know something about all of this mess because his dad was an officer. He texted him first and didn't get an answer, so while he waited he visited the different clubs and asked around if anyone had seen anything suspicious. Most people said no, a couple of them described what could only be Sherlock, and the others told him about some rude kids from other schools that had dropped in for the fair. As he went over his notes, he realised that the booths describing Sherlock were around his own booth so he assumed it was because Sherlock had been hanging around to speak to him and not for any sinister reason. 

As John made his way to the events office he wondered what Sherlock had done exactly at his last university. He was really smart so John assumed it had to have been an accident or a misunderstanding. Sherlock didn't seem the type to not know the rules. Of course he also seemed the type to not care about rules given how they were seeing each other, but he tried not to focus on that too much either. Probably not the best detective with his biased thoughts, but he couldn't help it. The secretary was out at the office and a student was filling in. John had to flirt a little bit, but he found out that all the money was handled by students until it was taken to the bank to be deposited. It was kept in a safe in the office but most of the club leaders knew the combination so they could put money away when they were finished even if no one was here. 

John thanked her and left, pulling out his phone to text Sherlock. Before he could though he saw Greg had called so he called back. 

"Hey, what did you want to ask me about?"

"Someone stole some money from the fair the other night and I just wondered if your dad had told you anything."

"Oh. Only that he can't see the person very well -- someone was caught on the security tapes but it's a shit view. You can make out a hoodie and some dark hair but that's it. Why? Are you trying to solve it?" Greg asked. 

"Maybe. I don't know. I was just curious, I suppose."

"Where have you been the last couple days anyways?" Greg asked. "One of those girls give you enough money for more than a kiss?"

"Shut up," John said, rolling his eyes. "I did get a twenty from a boy, though." John heard Greg stumble and just as he started asking a hundred questions he hung up, grinning happily. 

_There is pretty much no security on the money kept in the office. -JW_

Sherlock had taken a little while to collect himself after Mycroft's visit, but eventually he'd moved to the computer to get to work. He wasn't really sure where to start if he couldn't get more info or onto campus, but he was going to get this case solved one way or another and maybe Mycroft would just leave him alone again. He'd gone through three cups of tea by the time his phone rang.

_Thanks for checking it out. Any suspects? SH_

_The cameras caught someone with dark hair and a hoodie but it's not good quality so they can't do much with it. -JW_

Sherlock scanned through his memories of the weekend. It was difficult because at the time, his only concern was John. But there must be something in there. He sent a quick thank you to John and then lay down on his sofa to remember something that would help solve this.

John smiled at the message and headed back to his room to work on some homework. He had been neglecting it with the whole fair and working the booth coming up, and even more so after meeting Sherlock. He was sitting at his desk staring the same sentence for the fifth time when he realised he needed to go somewhere else to keep his focus. Not that his room was loud or anything, but his mind kept wandering and he needed a stimulus that would keep him in check. He packed up and went to the library, sitting at a table near a back window and pulling his books out again. Hopefully this would work better.

A man walked over and sat down across from John at the table. "John Watson," he said, but it wasn't quite a question.

John looked up and then narrowed his eyes a bit, leaning back. He recognised this man -- or his voice, anyways. "What do you want?"

The man looked at John's books. "So you want to be a doctor, I presume. Very admirable. You must be very dedicated -- focused on your studies. That's a good quality. I hope you don't lose it." He paused. "Or give it away. To someone like my brother."

"I think I can handle both just fine," John said, cringing at his words.

"Again, very admirable. But you've known him for what, three days? And what have you given away already, I wonder," Mycroft said. "I've known him for considerably longer, Mr Watson, and I can assure you, Sherlock will not be good for you."

John flushed lightly but crossed his arms and held the man's gaze. "I don't need you to tell me what's good for me or not."

"How can you be sure, Mr Watson? You're obviously clever," Mycroft said. "Why wouldn't you accept a word to the wise? You know he's not a student, correct? Surely you understand there's a reason for that."

John nodded. "He told me. I know he's a good guy," he said. 

Mycroft smiled a little. "There are plenty of 'good guys' at this university. Ones whose situations aren't quite as complicated as my brother's." He shifted slightly and leaned forward a little. "My brother is my responsibility, Mr Watson -- I don't know if he's told you much about our family -- but he knows that at least for the moment, I have the final say on how he spends his time. If I was of a mind to, I could have him out of that flat and at home with our parents within the hour. I'd rather not do that. For his sake and, quite frankly, for theirs as well. None of this is meant as a threat, Mr Watson. It's simply a fact. Think on about the things I've said, you'll see they make sense."

Mycroft stood up. "Sherlock knows that he shan't be seeing you again. I had hoped speaking with you directly would avoid any . . . hurt feelings. I know he doesn't want that. Consider this his goodbye and thank you." He walked away without given John a chance to respond.

As soon as he was out of the building, he sent Sherlock a text.

_It's done, brother. MH_

Sherlock read the text and immediately was filled with a sick mixture of anger and sadness and utter helplessness. He hit reply.

_I hate you. SH_

Then he quickly sent a text to John.

_I'm sorry, John. I didn't want that to happen, but I have no control. SH_

By the time that text was sent, there was a reply from Mycroft.

_You may hate me for three days -- the amount of time you thought you liked him. And then it is over and you will avoid ever feeling this way again by making wiser decisions. MH_

Sherlock threw his phone on the sofa and went into the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning on the hot water and staring up into it, letting it sting his skin until he cried. 

John immediately pulled out his phone to text Sherlock about what his brother had said when he saw Sherlock had texted him first. His heart sank. What hadn't Sherlock wanted to happen? His brother ending it or starting things with John in the first place?

_What didn't you want to happen? -JW_

John packed his books away while he waited for a text but he got nothing. 

_Do you mean me and you? -JW_

John put his bag on his shoulder and left the library, heading back to his room. He kept his phone tight in his hand but it never went off. Why was Sherlock doing this now? He closed himself into his room and considered going over to his flat, but he had promised that he wouldn't until he heard back from Sherlock. That last text seemed like John wasn't welcome anymore. He dropped his bag and lay down, putting the phone on his chest and waiting for a message. Eventually he dozed off, the phone sliding off his chest. 

When Sherlock couldn't bear the shower anymore, he got out. He stared at his red face in the mirror. He wasn't a child, why did Mycroft have to treat him like one? Then he thought about all the bad decisions he had made, the times he'd acted without thinking, and wondered if Mycroft was right. He thought about a few days ago and his strange desire to go speak to the guy running the kissing booth. Why had he done that? Why? And now he'd got John involved in all this mess. Why? He had chosen someone so good, so . . . honourable -- why? He went straight to bed and turned out the lights. But he couldn't stop thinking. He thought about John's worry about how fast things were going, how he felt about Sherlock, how he'd never slept with a man before. Now Sherlock's face was burning with anger and hatred -- not for Mycroft this time, though -- but for himself.

When John woke up again his hand looked for his phone before his brain remembered why. He sat up a bit and saw no new messages. He looked around the room and bit his lip, opening Sherlock's messages again.

_Please. At least have the decency to tell me yourself. -JW_

Sherlock lay quietly in his bed, eventually drifting into a light sleep. He heard a noise and opened his eyes. He got up to retrieve his phone and read John's messages. He carried his phone back to bed, turning on his side and looking at the place where John had slept last night. He reread John's messages. The last one -- what did it mean?

_I meant what I said, John. Please believe me. SH_

John felt his eyes burn at the message. He meant that he never meant for this to happen? John shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut hard for a moment.

_Right. That's all you had to say. Thanks for everything._

John was being sarcastic and angry, of course, but he wondered if that was going to come through to Sherlock. He deleted it.

_It was nice knowing you. -JW_

He sent that instead.

A sense of panic went through Sherlock when he read the reply. It was so -- harsh. What had Mycroft said that had made John turn on him? Despite his berating himself earlier for his impulsive behaviour, Sherlock didn't stop to think before he acted. 

_I'm sorry if I was too much or if it was too fast. I know I didn't understand why, but I liked you so much, John. I'm sorry. SH_

_I know things are complicated, but I have feelings, too. Please don't be cruel. SH_

_If that's how you feel, I'll leave you alone. SH_

But that was not enough.

_I thought you were different. I thought it meant something. SH_


	7. John and Sherlock

John felt sick at the messages and couldn't even type a reply. He let his finger push the call button, then had to press it a second time for it to actually catch. Now he was crying but he didn't care.

Sherlock's phone rang and he stared at John's name on the screen, afraid to answer it. But he did.

"Please," Sherlock said immediately. "I can't . . . don't make this worse. If you want it to be done, let it be done."

"You want it to be done! Your brother said that you were never going to see me again and then you texted me that you wished it'd never even happened!" John took a deep, shaky breath. "Sherlock please . . . I don't want it to end . . . I can keep the secret."

"John, what? No, I don't want it to end. I know why he does but I'm not like him . . . I don't understand why I feel like I do but I don't want it to end. Please, John, I'm so confused . . . I don't understand."

John sighed heavily. "God Sherlock, I don't want it to end either . . . please."

Sherlock tried to get his head clear. He stayed silent for a few minutes and then said, "Could you please come over?" He hoped it wasn't the wrong thing to say.

"Yes, I can come right now," John said, already grabbing his coat and heading out of the door.

Sherlock got up and washed his face. He put the kettle on and sat at the table, nervously waiting for John.

John hurried to Sherlock's, running the whole way there and having to give himself a few minutes to catch his breath before knocking loudly.

Sherlock stood up quickly and went to the door. He opened it and pulled John inside into an embrace. "I'm sorry, John," he said into his neck. "I don't understand what's happened."

"Your brother said you were never going to be seeing me again," John said. "And when I went to text you you said you wished it never happened and I just -- I thought you meant us."

"Oh, John," Sherlock said, squeezing him even tighter. "I meant his coming to speak to you -- that's what I wish hadn't happened. He threatened to but I didn't think he really would. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too, for being so cruel. I didn't mean it," he said, moving to look at Sherlock.

Sherlock looked down and kissed him. "Will you stay the night?" he asked.

"Yeah," John smiled softly, kissing him again.

Sherlock dragged him in and poured two cups of tea. "Let's take them to bed," he said. "I'd already gone to bed, I guess. It was too hard being awake." He led them to the bed and turned on the lamps. 

"I was so scared when he told me all of that -- well, more so when I thought you confirmed it but he knew so much about me . . . about what we'd done."

Sherlock climbed into bed and picked up his mug. "Well, that's my fault," Sherlock said and then quickly added, "I don't mean I _told_ him, I just mean it's my fault for not explaining him better to you. He knows everything. Even when there's no way he could know, he does. It's not pleasant -- actually I hate it. But hating it doesn't stop it. And if you stay with me, you . . . you'll be part of what he knows. I'm sorry." He looked down at his tea. God, why did everything in Sherlock's life have to be so complicated? He wondered if things would eventually put John off.

John reached over and touched his arm lightly before sipping at his own tea. "Sherlock, I really like you a lot and that seems like a small price to pay to be with you," he smiled softly. 

Sherlock smiled. Once he'd finished his tea, he set his cup on the table. He slid down in the bed a little. "God, feelings are exhausting, John," he said. "I like relief better than panic, but they're all kind of exhausting." He turned on his side and curled himself around John's body.

John smiled and finished his own tea, moving to lie down next to Sherlock and cuddling against him. "I know they are," he said, petting his hair softly.

"God, I'm glad you're here," Sherlock said, pushing his head against John's chest. "I wish you never had to go." He squeezed him tight. "I'll figure something out about my brother, but I do need to stay on the good side of the police -- one has kind of helped me and he's asked me to stay away from students. I just wish this case would get solved and then we could go out of the flat together," Sherlock said. He was moving his hand mindlessly on John's arm.

"Do you think they're close?" John asked.

"If they could figure out that footage you mentioned," Sherlock said. "I tried to think about the fair, tried to remember if I'd seen anyone like that . . . but I guess I was too distracted by you." He leaned over and kissed John lightly.

"I want to be sorry, but I can't," John smiled. He kissed Sherlock's forehead and hummed softly.

Sherlock snuggled up against John. "I'm sleepy," he admitted. "I feel like I can sleep properly now that you're here."

"We can sleep," John said, shifting down a bit to get more comfortable.

Sherlock's mind was calm enough to let go and he soon fell to sleep. He stayed curled around John. The bed was warm and safe.

John listened to Sherlock's deep, soft breathing for a long time before he drifted off himself, snoring softly. 

In the morning, Sherlock woke up, still close to John. He smiled and kissed his arm. The bed still felt warm and safe. He wasn't sure if he should wake him, so he just cuddled him, softly stroking his arm.

John slept for about an hour longer before he shifted. He found it a bit hard to move, and he panicked for a second before he remembered why. He opened his eyes and smiled at Sherlock, still wrapped around him. "M'glad you're still here," he murmured. 

"I'm glad you're here," Sherlock said. "You're still handsome." He squeezed him close again.

John flushed and smiled softly. "You're still handsome as well. That means I don't have to leave," he teased.

"All right then," Sherlock said. "If you insist." He leaned in and gave him a quick kiss and then moved out of bed to make some tea. He brought it back to the bed and crawled in again, handing one up to John. "So what are we doing today? Staying in this bed or are we going to be productive at all, do you think?"

"Well, I do have a couple classes today, but I can come back over after," John said.

Sherlock made an unhappy face, but then said, "All right. I guess I'll see if I can find out anymore about the money. Most of the other work I was doing before all this happened I need the library for so I can't really do much else." He had some tea and added, "Will you sleep here again, please?"

"Can you use the campus library?" John asked as he drank more tea. His stomach grumbled lightly and he wondered what Sherlock had here for breakfast. "And yes I will," he smiled.

"I could before but not now. I think I'll have permission again once the police know I wasn't involved with the theft," Sherlock said. He heard John's stomach. "I'm sorry, you're probably hungry. Should we get something to eat before you go?"

"Sorry, yeah," John admitted, flushing lightly and putting his hand on his belly. "I'm not picky. Do you want to make something here?"

"I don't have any food here," Sherlock said, as if it were a totally mad suggestion. "I'll treat you to breakfast." He finished his tea and got up again. "I suppose I should actually get dressed today," he said as he looked down at his pajamas. He fished into his wardrobe and got out some clothes before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

"I know a really good cafe that's not on campus," John said, getting up and smoothing out his clothes. If they got to the cafe fast enough he would have time to stop at his room and change his clothes for class. 

Sherlock returned quickly and they headed out. The cafe was a safe distance away from anywhere Sherlock was not allowed, so he felt good that he could behave and still have a friend. Or whatever precisely John was. Sherlock had no idea what the right word was, but he didn't really care. He was glad to have John and did not want to lose him, no matter what Mycroft claimed about Sherlock or about friendship.

When they finished, Sherlock headed back to his flat. He first tidied up a bit -- somehow the place deserved a little more attention now that John was coming over. Then he sat down at his desk and started investigating.

John stopped at his room and changed his clothes, having just enough time to grab his books and leave again. He would shower before he went to Sherlock's again. He kept touching his phone all through his class but it never went off. As we walked to his second class he checked it to make sure he hadn't just missed anything.

Half way through his second class his phone went off and he pulled it out excitedly. But it wasn't Sherlock. It was Greg.

_Dad's got a lead and is on his way to arrest. Someone fessed up and told on their friend. -GL_

_That's great! Thanks for letting me know. -JW_

He opened the messages to Sherlock and quickly told him what was happening.

Sherlock had fallen asleep on his sofa and his phone woke him. He was incredibly pleased. Now Lestrade would know Sherlock wasn't involved, and he could start going back on campus. He could go back to how it was before.

Except for Mycroft.

Sherlock stared at the phone in his hand. He thought of everything he could say to Mycroft to help him understand. Or maybe not understand -- at least just leave Sherlock alone. Except that wasn't quite right what he meant either, because Sherlock knew that Mycroft did help look after him. He just didn't know precisely what to say or do.

So he rang his mum.

The minute she picked up the phone, Sherlock started talking. He apologised for his bad choices, he tried to explain how he felt about John, he asked her to let him live his life. He talked and talked in a way he never really had with his mum -- with anyone in his family really. Finally, he stopped and it was as if he'd suddenly realised what he'd done and hoped it hadn't been a huge mistake.

Then his mother began speaking, asking a few questions and eventually saying, "Leave it with me."

Sherlock rolled over on his side and closed his eyes. A few moments later, his phone vibrated.

_All's well. MH_

Sherlock realised that's probably the most supportive Mycroft could actually be about Sherlock's friendship. He didn't smile, but he did feel a burden lifted from his shoulders. He went back to John's message and hit reply.

_Come be with me soon, please. SH_

_Class is over in twenty. I will shower and come back over. -JW_

John grinned and stuffed his phone away, counting down the minutes.

Sherlock smiled and got up to try to go back to work. He could go back to work, he could go back to his old life. Except John was in it now. John had given him a new life.


End file.
